Darkness Falls
by Hokama Sekushiru
Summary: A sequel to 'Where Loyalties Lie.' The Lunar Resistance now faces the challenge of reclaiming Radiant Garden from the rule of the Assassins' Guild. How much will victory cost, and how dearly are they willing to pay?
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello again, my dear readers! If you clicked on this story and you haven't read _Where Loyalties Lie_, you should really go check WLL out, because this will make a lot more sense when you do.  
If you've come here already having read WLL, then welcome back! The journey continues, as I said it would! Are you ready?  
If so, then let's be off!**

Once, the people of my city were split into three distinct groups.

The first of these groups was the militants; Knights, Lancers, and Freeshooters, who fought with their weapons and their fists, to defend and to serve the people who relied on them for safety.

The second of these was the magicians; Sorcerers, who used their arcane powers to provide us with food and knowledge; Nocturnes, whose magic songs could heal any wounds; and Diviners, the clairvoyants whose Sight allowed them to peer into the future and glimpse the hidden secrets in the world around them.

The third and last was the mixed group; the Academics who supplied the city with research and technology, and the Assassins, the masters of subterfuge and espionage.

Once, the people of my city lived in relative peace. Houses were Houses, and Guilds were Guilds, and nobody strayed far beyond the borders within which they lived their lives. There was order, and there was tranquility.

Now, there is only chaos and fire and ruin where once a shining city stood.

Radiant Garden is in ashes, its buildings destroyed and crumbling, its people hiding in fear. Upon its remains is constructed, from poison and darkness, the iron foundation of a new city, where fear and terror reign supreme.

This new city is ruled by those who remained behind when the defenders of peace departed; those who support death and destruction; the minions and harbingers of the dark.

In the days of House and Guild, they were called… the Assassins.


	2. A New Dawn

March in Radiant Garden is a frigid month.

Luckily, I have my tent and my blanket, or else I probably would have frozen to death in the depths of December and January, when the snows were piled so high that no one dared to leave their tent except to get the food that the self-sacrificing Sorcerers willingly provided. In the midst of a blizzard, with no other solace than meals, the entire camp was glad to have the Sorcerer refugees.

I gaze out of the tent flap, my eyes flickering around as the first rays of dawn light the frosty morning outside. The trees glitter with a white coating of crystals, and icicles hang heavy and sharp from the drooping, leafless branches, sparkling as the golden beams send lances of radiance through their prismatic surfaces.

It is March. That means that it has been nine months since the initial escape from the Assassins. That also means that it has been over a year since I walked across the stage on that fateful morning, sealing my destiny with the touch of my hands on artifacts of glass and wood.

It is March.

Which means that spring is coming.

I am up and dressed soon after I wake, although the bracing cold has me hesitant to step foot outside. Still, I steel myself and slide through the tent flap and into the open air, drawing in a sharp breath as the cold stings my cheeks like a slap. The world around me is breathtakingly colorless and silent, the quiet broken only by the soft crunching sounds that my booted feet make on the ice-coated ground.

Around me, the entire camp is rousing itself as if from a winter's long hibernation. Tent flaps yawn wide, and curious, sleepy heads poke their way out into the fresh air. I see many pairs of eyes widen with the cold and the dawn, and I cannot help a small smile at the sight. I have awoken to many winter morning such as this one, but today, there seems to be something different on the breeze. I'm not sure how it's different, but I can feel it singing right through to my core with every tendril of wind that teases my hair in its direction.

Something is about to change.

"Good morning, Nax!"  
I turn and smile as my sister bounces up beside me, her violet ponytail swinging with the momentum of her walk. Her pale cheeks are flushed red with the chill, and her mouth stretches into a wide grin when she catches my eye.

"Someone's happy," I laugh. "Good morning to you, too."

"Something's different about today." Liseth's head tilts to the side as she makes the remark; it's her 'looking-for-confirmation' gesture. "Isn't it? Can you feel it, too?"

I nod a little. "Yes, I can feel it. I don't know what it is, but there's something on the air. Something's changed."

"Something has changed."

We both turn at the sound of the new voice; a deeper, softer one that resonates through the chilly morning, though the words were not spoken loudly. Liseth beams brightly at the speaker, and I allow my own lips to pull themselves into a smile as well.

"Good morning, Sai!" Liseth says, skipping over and hugging him around the middle.

Saïx lets go an amused laugh at that, but he returns the gesture with good-natured affection. "Good morning, Thexsil."

She lets him go, and he turns to me, his own face reflecting the same quieter smile that paints my features.

"Naxanz," he says, and there is more in that one word than he could ever say in a thousand sentences.

"Saïx," I reply, hoping that my words convey the same.

"What's changed?" Liseth asks after we've greeted one another, stepping closer to form a small circle. Her cobalt eyes are eager and full of energy, and she glances from me to Saïx with increasing rapidity. "You can feel it too, can't you, Sai?"

He nods at her. "I can. It is the first snowmelt of the year; it means that the warmer weather is on its way. Today is only the beginning, but soon, the icicles will begin to drip, and then melt, and the snows will follow. Spring is coming."

"How do you know?" I ask him.

He taps a finger to his eyes, which are pale and milky gold with blindness, but still full of depth, more than even the eyes of a person with normal sight.

"My Sight," he replies quietly.

"It was a vision?" I ask.

He smiles. "More like a whisper. Such whispers are easier to perceive when you are more attuned to their presence. The signs tell me that the snowmelt is on its way."

"Spring is coming," I repeat, exhaling in awe.

"Which means we have work to do," Saïx says, turning away and facing out across the camp, which now extends across nearly half a mile of woods, a series of dirt clearings ringed with tents and fire pits. "Spring will mean that the Assassins will be active again, and they will be actively seeking us. Their main goal, besides the domination of the city, is the capture and slaughter of every member of the Diviners' Guild, in order to ensure their rise to both clairvoyance and immortality."

I shiver, swallowing the bile that rises inadvertently in my throat. "Don't worry, I remember." Memories of Iris Rain flash across my mind, and it takes me some effort to push them away.

The skin around his eyes tightens slightly, and I know he is remembering Iris, as well, though he doesn't show it nearly as much as I do. "It is hard to forget. _Our_ goal, however, is to prevent that from happening, as well as to take back our city and to restore peace and order."

"And we're going to do it now?" Liseth asks.

"We are certainly going to start trying," Saïx replies seriously. "We have already accomplished three of the goals from Naxanz's original plan of four points: secure food and supplies, rescue the Diviners still in Maison Etoile, and train the Diviners in our company in the art of combat. The only thing we failed to do was garner official support from the other Guildmasters of the city, and," here he offers a bitter smile, "I doubt that we will be accomplishing that particular objective any time soon. Still, we do have many refugees from many different Guilds, which amounts to almost the same thing."

"So now we need a new plan," Liseth finishes. "We need an attack plan. A war strategy. We need to get back inside the city and take them down before they take us down."

"We need to get back inside the city," Saïx agrees. "Once we do that, our objective will be to establish surveillance on the Assassin regime. We need to know where they are and when they are there. Most of all, we need to know my sister's location."

"Because in order to win…" Liseth trails off, glancing at him a little sadly.

He nods sharply, and I can see the hardness in his eyes and on his face.

"In order for us to win, my sister must die."

It is not long until the entire camp is roused and active, bustling about the clearings with a surprising degree of activity. It seems that all the energy stored away during the relative stillness of deep winter is now bursting forth in rivers and floods, infusing even the very atmosphere with its electric charge.

My two best friends, Pyra Hokama and Emi Rain, catch up to Saïx, Liseth and me as we make our way across the first and largest clearing. They fall into step beside us, offering us waves and small smiles in greeting.

"Morning, all," Pyra says with a huge yawn.

I smirk. "Morning, Pyra. I'm assuming it was a challenge to get off your pallet?"

"Shut up," she mumbles, without any real bite. "Blankets are comfortable, especially when it's cold. I don't like the cold."

"There's a difference between 'blankets are comfortable' and audibly hissing when someone tries to get you up," Emi snickers.

"Next time you try to pull me out of bed by force, I'll bite your fingers," Pyra retorts.

I roll my eyes and laugh, allowing their cheerful banter to boost my spirits. At last, it would seem that a glimmer of hope is on the horizon; I feel happier and lighter than I have in a very long time.

We meet up with the rest of our Resistance Council on the far side of the camp, where the militants are congregated. Axel, Toran and Zane are all engaged in animated conversation with an older man in his mid-forties; a well-muscled and burly figure who sports a shock of auburn hair atop his head, some strands greying slightly with age. All four of them glance up as we approach, and the boys offer us cheerful waves, while the man responds with a respectful nod at Saïx.

"Good morning!" Axel's tone is exuberant and cheerful, something that I haven't heard from him since the morning when we exited the city after our first real attack on the Assassins. His bright turquoise eyes spark with mischief, and there is a grin on his face that suggests tricks and hijinks.

"Apparently, the good mood is contagious this morning," I say, smirking at him.

He fails to be offended by the expression, his grin widening. "You got that right. It's finally almost time for us to really start _doing_ something. It's driving me crazy!"

"Well, calm down," I laugh. "We can't do anything _just_ yet." Still, the force of his enthusiasm sticks the lingering smile on my face, and I can't help the continuing bubbles of determined hope that spring up from some well deep inside me.

He just ruffles my hair in his familiar, big-brother way, still grinning. "Maybe not yet, but soon. At any rate, we can at least start planning, instead of sitting around doing nothing."

"You're right about that," I agree.

After giving Liseth a hug and Saïx a clap on the shoulder, Axel introduces the unfamiliar man as Lex, one of the Lieutenants of the Knights' Guild. I meet his eyes cautiously, a little wary of his height and girth, but he gives me a reassuring smile, which I return with some relief.

"Lex is filling in as the organizer for the Knight refugees while their Guildmaster remains in the city," Axel explains. "I was just asking him about some strategy plans for when we actually decide to mount a real offensive."

"He has some excellent ideas," Zane says, breaking into the conversation excitedly. "For instance, were we to make an assault on the wall itself, he says that the Sorcerers could—"

The boys fall to discussing strategy with the Lieutenant; I turn to Liseth, Pyra, and Emi with a slight shake of my head. All three of them are smirking.

"I think we should let the boys amuse themselves for a while," Emi says with a stifled snicker. "Meanwhile, we can go talk to the rest of the Diviners and see what they think about all of this."

I nod at her. "I think you're right." Glancing at Liseth, I ask her, "Do you want to come with us?"

"Will it get me out of strategy lessons?" She laughs. "I'm there. Let's go."

We cross back over to the magicians' side of the camp, approaching the congregation of tents where the refugees of the Diviners' Guild are located. Although the mood in the air is a cheerful one, my heart still stings with bitterness when I see how few of us there are. It only serves as a grim reminder of how many remain in the city, either dead or bound in chains in the Assassins' prison. Memories of the night that we escaped flash before my eyes, and I have to struggle to push them, and the prick of sudden tears, away.

The Elders of the Guild, those who escaped, are all seated on the ground in a circle surrounding their fire pit, eating the bread and cheese that the Sorcerers provided for breakfast. Without the added energy of the city's crystal reservoirs, their powers outside the wall are slightly limited, but they can still perform magics up to an astonishingly powerful degree, including the summoning of food.

Elder Itachi glances up at us as we approach, his kindly grey eyes twinkling as he smiles in greeting.

"Good morning, young ladies," he says.

The other Elders glance up when he does, echoing his greeting and his smile, although not all of them smile quite so cheerfully. Some of the remaining seven Elders are quite bitter about this experience, and I can't really say that I blame them. They've lived their lives as Diviners in peace for years longer than I've even _been_ one, and now everything that they had has been torn away from them.

"Good morning, Elder Itachi," I say respectfully, inclining my head.

"Something is different on the breeze today," he says, turning his head toward the forest. "Have you felt it?"

Pyra nods at him. "We have. Master Luna Diviner says that the snowmelt is on its way. Spring is coming soon."

"Indeed," Elder Itachi says, stroking his grey beard and nodding. "It is coming, and coming fast."

"The melt should arrive in no less than two weeks," one Elder affirms.

"The frosts will fade in the days after that," another chimes in.

I am set slightly off-balance for a moment by the eerie premonition of the Guild Elders; I've never been able to see anything quite so consistently or so clearly. Then again, though, I _have_ only been a Diviner for a little over a year, and only about six months of that was spent actually learning the craft.

"What do you think we should do after the melt comes?" Emi asks them.

"Do?" This is Elder Michiko, a sweet, gentle lady in her early sixties, whose brown eyes regard Emi with some surprise.

"In regard to the Assassins, ma'am," Liseth says. She sounds awkward addressing Elder Michiko, as if she isn't quite sure she's allowed to be doing it. "I mean… we'll have to do _something_. We can't just let them keep holding on to the city."

"No," Elder Michiko says, with a thoughtful look at Liseth. My sister shrinks slightly under the older woman's gaze, and I can tell she's uncomfortable, but she holds still and allows Elder Michiko to look at her.

"You are Liseth Aotora," the Elder says. It is a statement rather than a question, although she and Liseth have never been formally introduced.

Liseth's eyes widen slightly; she is caught off-guard. However, she quickly recovers, nodding in confirmation. "I am."

"You have a lot of empathy, dear," Elder Michiko says, smiling at her. "It's a shame you didn't have the Sight; you would have been a wonderful Diviner. You seem to be very adept in magic already; I can sense it around you."

Liseth flushes profusely, her cheeks reddening to an autumn cherry color. "Th-thank you," she mumbles, bowing her head slightly at the praise.

"Michiko, you're flustering the poor girl," Elder Itachi scolds gently, a slight smile tugging at his mouth.

"Oh, I'm sorry," the older woman says, covering her mouth. "I was simply remarking… well, never mind. As for what we should _do_…" She sighs heavily, her shoulders falling.

"What we should do remains unclear," Elder Itachi says, picking up her sentence.

"The signs are cloudy," agrees another Elder, a man with a pointy beard and heavy, bushy eyebrows that seem to push his expression down into a permanent frown. "They seem to point in several directions, but no single path is yet clear."

"The future, you must understand, is heavily reliant on probability and decisions," Elder Itachi explains, glancing at the four of us. "You three Diviner girls will learn this as you grow; sometimes, in situations where many different choices can affect an outcome, the outcome does not become clear until closer to the end. Sometimes, it only becomes evident after it is too late." He sighs.

"What's the point of even seeing the future, then?" Pyra asks.

Elder Itachi gives her a smile. "It all depends on the choices. Sometimes, the future can still be changed, and it is always worth the try if the outcome will be best for everyone."

I sigh. "Thank you very much, respected Diviner Elders. Your wisdom is much appreciated."

"Chin up, Naxanz," Elder Michiko says, smiling at me. "Today is a day of hope. The dawning of spring always brings with it new life and new possibilities."

"She's right," Elder Itachi agrees. "Besides, we still have much time. Plans will need to be made, and who knows what the signs will say after we are on a definite course? There is still time."

Pyra nods. "Thank you. We may have to keep coming to you for help, so thanks for being willing to give it."

"My dear girl, the only thing that we desire is the successful restoration of peace and harmony to our city and to our lives," Elder Itachi says seriously. "We will help by any means necessary to see that through."

"Come back and speak with us again after a plan is made," Elder Michiko adds. "We will tell you what we see when that time comes."

"We'll make sure to." I nod at them in gratitude, and the four of us turn away and leave them to their circle.


	3. Hidden Things

The snowmelt does come just as the Elders predicted; within two weeks, I am waking up to the sound of water dripping sluggishly from icicles outside my tent, followed by the muffled _cracks_ of the glittering spears as they drop from tree branches to the still-frozen ground and shatter into icy shards. Spring is most definitely on its way.

The entire camp slowly begins to rouse itself from the winter's suspended animation, waking up like a bear from a long slumber; and, like a bear, everyone in the camp is ready to take action and begin the campaign against the Assassins. Every day, the Resistance Council, made up of the original six members plus Pyra and Emi, who were officially 'inducted' back in December, meets in our large, haphazard tent to continue the discussion of a formal offensive strategy against the traitor Guild. Unfortunately, a solid offensive plan is harder to concoct than we had previously expected, mostly because we keep hitting blockades in the forms of numbers and resources.

"That just won't _work_!" Axel slams his fist down on the tent floor in irritation, uttering a faint curse shortly thereafter and rubbing his injured fingers gingerly. "We'll all get ourselves killed if we do anything even remotely close to storming the front gate. They'll have it too well-defended."

"Well, I can't see any better options, Axel," Zane huffs. "We lost the element of surprise back in November when we climbed over the walls; the scouts that we sent over there the other day came back and reported that they've got all the walltops heavily guarded, even in the wee morning hours. No one can get in or out." His thick accent combined with his frustration slurs the words, and I have to concentrate for a moment before the message resolves itself.

"What about Corridors?" Pyra suggests. "We've used those before, haven't we?"

Toran shakes his head at that. "Can't; the Assassins would sense the shadow magic from a mile away. If we're going to do anything stealthy, we have to avoid using the same kind of magic as the Guild does, or else it'd be like sticking a target on our chests and saying 'here, kill me.'"

"Well, that's inconvenient," Pyra mutters.

"Inconvenient it is, lass, but it's the truth," Zane says wearily. "We can't do anything that'll alert them to our presence, or else we lose even the small advantage we might have. But we haven't even got that now, since we wasted it back in November!"

"You forget," Saïx says calmly, "that if we had not attacked in November, we would not have reclaimed the powerful weapon that we acquired; nor would we have left any mess for the Assassins to clean up during the winter."

"…Aye, I suppose so," Zane concedes. "And you and Naxanz certainly did put the fright in them with that Silver Lady stunt. But that still doesn't solve our problem."

"We need some way of conducting a surprise assault that doesn't involve shadow magic or scaling the walls again," Axel says.

"Could we possibly go underground?" Emi asks. "Dig a tunnel or something?"

Toran shakes his head. "That'd take too long. They'd see us way before we ever finished it."

"If there were a preexisting tunnel, that might work," Axel agrees, "but trying to dig one ourselves is much too risky."

Emi moans in agitation. "This is getting us nowhere. The frosts will be fading in less than a week, according to the Elders, and we still have no plan of action, which means that spring will come and we'll just be sitting here like we have been all winter, while the Assassins kill, maim, imprison, and torture everyone in the city."

"We'll come up with something, lass," Zane says, though his voice is less firm than the statement really needed to be; it sounds like he's trying to convince himself as much as Emi.

"Let's call it a day," Axel sighs. "We're just going in circles, and all that's accomplishing is making everyone upset. Maybe we'll get some better ideas if we sleep on it, or think on it, or something."

"Isn't there supposed to be something Diviners can do about this sort of thing?" Toran asks, glancing at Saïx, and then at Pyra, Emi, and me.

I know it's not a malicious question; Toran's face is perfectly open and honest, and I can tell that he's just asking because he truly thinks something could be done. Still, though, the feeling that I've fallen short in some way stings a little, and I glare at him.

"For your information, we're clairvoyants, not genies," I say. "The future is complicated. Not to mention, two of us here are initiates."

"What Naxanz means to say," Saïx cuts in before I can get any farther, "is that sometimes, the future is harder to read than it would seem. I know that Diviners are mythologically supposed to be able to see everything ahead, but the truth is that Sight is an unpredictable energy, and the future is an ever-shifting creature, reliant on probability and decisions. We can sometimes see far ahead of us, but sometimes, the future is as cloudy as the sky before a storm."

"I meant no offense," Toran says hastily, his face flushing crimson. He shoots me an apologetic look, and I immediately feel bad for overreacting _again_, which seems to be my _modus operandi_ for even the slightest insult, no matter how unintentional.

"I know, Toran. I'm sorry." I sigh. "I shouldn't have snapped at you. This is just…" I give a helpless shrug, trying to convey the utter bewilderment that words can't really express.

"We're all frustrated," Axel says. "So I think we should give it a rest and see what happens tomorrow."

"Seconded," Toran agrees sheepishly.

"Aye," Zane says.

One by one, we voice our assents, and the vote is unanimously in favor of putting it off until tomorrow. Silently, we rise and exit the tent in single file, dispersing into the cool evening, which is already studded with the first signs of glimmering winter stars.

I make my way back to my tent, the one I share with my sister. Inside, I kick off my boots, unpin my hair from its silver moon clip, and flop onto my pallet, idly rolling the clip between my fingers as my mind spins and whirls restlessly.

I can't help wondering how many tomorrows we'll have to put this decision off before we run out of time.

I am wakened early in the morning by the sounds of shouting.

I don't know if it's the shouts that wake me or the sound of Liseth stirring; whatever it is, I blink my eyes open to find my vision still clouded by the darkness of early morning. It can't be any later than five o'clock AM.

Moaning, I shove myself up on my pallet and rub my eyes, squinting toward the tent flap as Liseth pushes herself into a sitting position across from me. Her violet hair is messy from sleep, and she looks exhausted and slightly annoyed to have been woken this early. I can't say I really blame her; I can feel my own irritation growing as my body slowly adjusts to having been jolted from peaceful slumber. Whoever is yelling, I'm about to have _words_ with them.

I crawl over to the tent flap and push it aside, peering out into the frosty pre-dawn air. From across the clearing, the distinct orange flickers of fire cast shadows across the sides of the other tents. Other people are emerging from their tents now, their expressions reflecting clearly their disorientation and confusion.

Several people are already standing near the crimson glow; it is from them that the shouts are coming, loud, but from this distance, the words are slurred into indistinct noise. Two of them are shorter, and I don't recognize them, but the tall spikes of the third's hair let me know immediately that Axel is part of this situation.

"Nax? What's going on?" Liseth asks tiredly, crawling over to sit beside me. She peers out of the tent flap herself, squinting against the glow of the fire.

"Axel and some people are having an argument, I think," I say, standing up on wobbly legs.

"At five in the morning?" she mumbles incredulously. "_Why_?"

"I'm about to go find out," I say flatly. "I'll be right back." With that, I stumble forward, just barely managing to avoid tripping over my own feet as I step out of the tent and onto the hard-packed, freezing earth outside.

I conveniently forgot to slip my boots on before exiting the tent, so my path over to where Axel is standing consists of a great deal of hopping and a fair amount of muttering choice phrases under my breath; finally, though, I manage to reach the firelit area, which I can now see is illuminated by the light from two sturdy tree branches, the ends of which have been converted into makeshift torches. These torches are borne in the hands of two of the younger refugees, both boys. Due to the fact that everyone out here has taken to dressing in the warmest remnants of the Knights' uniforms, I cannot tell from their clothes what Guilds they come from; both, however, appear very excited and eager, waving their torches about as they speak. One of them seems vaguely familiar, but my drowsy mind cannot function well enough just yet to place him in any definite way.

"Okay, okay, just hold on and calm down!" Axel is saying, raising his hands in some futile attempt to get the pair of boys to settle. "I want to hear it _slowly_, and _one at a time_."

They both attempt to start explaining at once, both voices rising in a mindless babble, each trying to overpower the other. It exacerbates the headache already starting behind my eyeballs, and I close my eyes, trying to block out the noise.

"_No!_" Axel yells in frustration. "_One_ at a time! You both are impossible. Okay, Roxas, you go first; and Ward, you be quiet for now."

_Roxas._ The name clicks somewhere in my mind, and now I can place the eager blond boy whose sapphire eyes glimmer with wild excitement. He's Roxas Locke, Zane's younger brother, and initially, he was facing the death penalty for treason. Luckily for him, Saïx saved his life, protesting on the grounds of Roxas's age. Looking at him now, with his face animated and his mouth moving faster than I can keep up with, I see no trace of that timid, zombie-like boy who threw himself on the mercies of the higher-ups that first day after the escape.

"Ward and I went back into the city!" Roxas exclaims, waving his torch up and down so fast that embers from the burning stick spew onto the forest floor like comets trailing starlight, sizzling for a moment when they impact the ground.

"You did _what_?!" Axel's expression is beyond disbelief; outright _shock_ colors his features, opening his narrow turquoise eyes wide. "Who authorized that?!"

"Uh…" For a moment, Roxas's face falls a little. "No one, actually… but that's not the point!" He shakes his head and waves his stick again.

Axel's face is absolutely livid now. "You went back into the city _alone_, _without authorization?!_" he sputters.

"That's not the _point_, Axel!" Roxas insists, somewhat pleadingly now.

"Then what _is_ the point? Because I'd sure like to hear your explanation for this." Axel crosses his arms and fixes the young man with a stare so incredibly fiery that I'm surprised it doesn't actually scorch his face.

"We went back to see if we could find a secret way in," Roxas says eagerly. "Some kind of passage, or door, or something. We were just scouting; we didn't get into any trouble."

"How did you get back into the city?" Axel asks sharply.

"We climbed the vines, like the first time," Ward pipes up. "We made sure there weren't any guards looking. No one saw."

"Hmph," Axel grumbles, but he lets them continue.

"Anyway," Roxas says, "we were looking around in the library down in Market Square, the one where they have all those city records and maps and things. And we found this really old piece of paper that had fallen out of its little glass scroll-holder."

"Is this relevant?" Axel interrupts. "You're supposed to be giving me a good excuse for your blatant disobedience, and so far, I'm not impressed."

"Just hang on, I'm getting there," Roxas pleads. "This little piece of paper turned out to be a map of some sort; a really old one, like, from back when the city was first built."

Axel raises an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Where is it, then?"

In response, Roxas reaches into some hidden pocket in his clothes and pulls out a small, folded square of yellowish paper, being careful to keep it out of the reach of the embers dancing their way from his torch to the ground. Axel takes the paper with some suspicion, unfolding it quickly. His turquoise eyes scan its surface with astonishing rapidity, and Roxas, Ward, and the entire crowd now gathered around the small scene wait with bated breath to hear the verdict.

"It's a map," Axel says at last, glancing up. The hollows of his cheeks are drawn and shadowed beneath his cheekbones, and the flickering firelight makes his face look eerie and heavy.

"I told you!" Roxas crows triumphantly, grinning first at Axel, and then at Ward, with whom he slaps a high-five.

Now fully awake, I turn my attention away from the two celebrating boys and slide closer to Axel, glancing at the paper.

"What's it a map of?" I ask.

"It looks like Radiant Garden," he says, showing absolutely no surprise when I appear next to him. "See, here's the outline of the wall." He traces with his finger a thin, circular line which encompasses most of the small page. "And here, these are the different districts inside the city." His finger slashes radial lines through the circle, and sure enough, I begin to see the layout of Radiant Garden unfold itself from the mess of confusing pen-strokes.

"These little rectangles, though…" Axel's voice trails off, and he traces some more shapes across the page; thin, rectangular boxes that zigzag their way through the diagram of the city, overlapping with the lines which section off the different districts. Some of the rectangular shapes extend beyond the line that denotes the wall; others, however, do not start until well past that boundary.

"What are they?" I ask, squinting down at the paper in some confusion.

"I don't know," Axel sighs. "Could be important, or could be that the mapmaker was just a bad artist. We'll check with Sai when it gets light and see what he thinks. For now, it's dark, and I'm tired; and _you two_," he glances at Ward and Roxas, "had better thank Kingdom Hearts that I don't tie you both to trees for the rest of the day. This map could be useful, so I won't punish you _this time_. But don't even _think_ about pulling something like that again."

"Yes sir," Roxas and Ward chorus, saluting Axel with broad grins before sprinting away, their torches leaving flickering golden trails behind them as they run.

"Everyone, back to bed!" Axel calls. I hear the grateful mumbles of the crowd as they disperse across the clearing and back to their tents.

I myself struggle back to my tent on numb feet, flopping down almost immediately once I've entered and sitting on my toes to warm them up. Liseth has already drifted back to sleep on her own pallet, her blanket pulled up over her head.

My feet take what seems like an age to warm up, but once they do, I stretch them back out under my blanket, and almost immediately fall back into the depths of sleep.

I wake much later in the morning, with golden rays of bright sunlight streaming through the crack in the tent flap, along with slight breaths of freezing wind which send the scattered strands of my hair fluttering around my face.

I rise and dress quickly, pulling my leather clothes tight against the cold; when I deem myself suitably prepared to face the day, I exhale a deep sigh and step outside.

The world I am greeted with is radically different from the one I knew only yesterday. Not only are the icicles melting, but they are almost completely _gone_, leaving the branches above my head bare and leafless in the chilly air. In addition to that, the frost and remaining patches of snow beneath my boots have begun to thaw, creating piles of dirty slush, mud, and, in some places, the real, solid, crumbly brown earth of the forest floor.

I poke my toe at one of the dirt patches, and the soil moves eagerly, tumbling down from the top of the small hill it's formed into overnight and scattering across the mushy ground. In my mind, I envision green shoots poking their cautious heads up from the dirt piles, and warm breezes blowing in to replace the cold knives that have slashed across our cheeks and through our clothes for the duration of the winter.

Spring is coming.

Holding the thought in my mind, I turn and face into the wind, setting my head low and squarely between my shoulders as I begin to walk. Axel said that we needed to consult Saïx about the map, so that's just what I'm going to do.

I find him in his own tent, sitting up on his pallet with his pale eyes turned toward the tent flap. As soon as the fabric rustles, his head moves slightly, those eerie, lovely irises somehow locked directly on me.

"Good morning," he says, smiling a little.

"Good morning, Saïx," I say, flopping down beside him. My breath puffs out in a little _oof_ when my body hits the ground, but I pay it no heed.

"I assume that what brings you here so early has something to do with the commotion of earlier this morning," he says wryly.

"You heard that?" I ask.

"I did, along with every refugee and animal in the woods," he laughs. "If Axel wants me to tell him what his map says, he's going to have to bring it to me himself."

I shake my head. "I guess I came over here for nothing, then."

"I would not go that far," he says, that hint of a smile still pulling at his mouth. "I may not be able to interpret maps without having them in front of me, but I am always willing to talk."

I laugh and turn over onto my back, staring up at the white fabric that stretches above me to form the roof of the rough canvas tent. "What do you want to talk about, then?"

His voice becomes serious when he answers. "I want to talk about you and I."

Instantly, I can feel the red heat spreading over my cheeks. That was _not_ the answer that I was expecting.

"Before you get upset or flustered, let me clarify that I wish on no grounds to establish any sort of relationship that will make either of us uncomfortable," he says. "Nor do I wish to pressure you into feeling any certain way about me. But at the end of that first attack…"

He trails off, and I know what he's remembering, because it flashes through my mind, as well: how I made my escape late because I took so much time reclaiming Lunatic from the depths of House Rain, and how frightened and worried I could tell he was when I finally made it out.

"I know you have forgiven me for my past misdeeds, although I still regret them heavily," he says quietly. "Nevertheless, I feel the need to elucidate exactly what feelings they are that you harbor toward me before I can sort out my own emotions in my mind. It has been a long winter, but spring is the season of new beginnings, and I want to know whether it will be ours, as well."

"Uh…" I trail off almost immediately, my cheeks still twin stars flaming with heat. It's been so long since I've had _this_ sort of conversation with him, and the last time we talked about it, things did _not_ end well. I distinctly remember trying to kick him in the shins.

He is patient and silent as I collect my thoughts, the waiting presence that he always was back in the Guild, when life was a simple cycle of lessons, meals, and sleeping. He was the thing that made my past existence enjoyable, simply because he was there and I knew that he cared about me. I was still naïve then, caught up in the charm of his wisdom and kindness; I've learned much more about him as a person since then, but despite all the anguish that we've been through, I know that he's still exactly the kind of person who would make a sacrifice on his own part to benefit others. It took me a long time to get there, but I understand a little better now.

When I consider how I _really_ feel about him, underneath all the pain and suffering and confusion and learning and worry and anxiety, I can feel that there's still a spark of blazing affection somewhere deep within the cooled and jaded depths of my injured heart. I know there is, because when I consider the thought that he might die in this war, my stomach gives a cold, sick squeeze, and my mind instantly shies away from the thought. I still care about him very much; and he's right, I _have_ forgiven him, even though the thought of what happened still sends shards of bitterness and anguish through my consciousness.

But _love_?

What can I even consider about _love_?

Do I even really understand love? I know that I love my sister, always, unconditionally, and forever. I know that I love my two best friends, because they have proven themselves true and faithful as sisters in their own right. But how do I know when I love a man?

I thought I loved Saïx, once, although I can see now that back then, it was just a mindless infatuation, without any depth at all. But how do you tell when something's deep enough to be real love? Is there a test that it has to pass? Do you just _know_, like Diviners sometimes _know_ things through our Sight?

I realize that Saïx is still waiting patiently for me to answer, so I sigh, long, heavy, and weary. "Saïx…Sai…I don't know." I pause slightly, a small breath to fuel my next tired exhale. "I thought I was in love with you once, back in May, before you were kidnapped. I thought I understood everything, but… I don't really understand anything at all. I don't even know what love is anymore; not the kind that a man and a woman can have."

"I understand." His voice is still quiet, still calm; slow and steady like the river on a windless day. I know that voice so well; it lives within my consciousness and inside my memories. It is the voice of peace and tranquility, and that is something it will always be, no matter what happens to _us_.

"I hope that one day, you will truly understand the meaning of love," he says softly. "Love is a wild, beautiful, uncontrollable thing. It makes you almost mad when you first experience it; slowly, though, passion and presence combine, and what results from that combination is the most wonderful thing in the worlds. It is the most powerful force ever to grace the universe. When you truly love someone, unconditionally and without reserve, there is nothing that you would not do for them. When you truly love someone, you no longer belong to yourself, but to them; and that is the most beautiful thing of all."

"How do you know when it's love?" I ask him, willing my voice not to catch like I know it wants to. His description was so passionate and sincere that it's taking all of my self-control not to show a reaction.

"When you decide that you would be willing to give your own life, your own self, for that person, and you mean it sincerely and without congratulatory pride in yourself, _then_ you truly know that it is love," he says quietly. "Because when you are in love, you suddenly do not matter so much to yourself anymore."

"It sounds wonderful," I whisper, after a long silence. "I hope I find it someday."

"I hope that you do," he replies, in equally gentle tones. "And I hope that happiness accompanies it for all of your days."

I swallow hard, pressing my palms against my eyes and willing myself to stay calm, to show nothing, to not reveal any of the emotion that I feel welling up inside. I'm so confused, and the confusion stirs up a spring of pain and sadness that presses strongly on the walls of my heart, threatening to break through.

"I apologize for troubling you with that question," Saïx says, sounding a little sad himself. "I simply… I needed to know."

"I'm sorry I didn't know the right answer," I manage to choke out.

"If you would like to go now, then you may feel free," he says.

I stand, turn to exit, and then turn back and put my arms around him quickly. He starts in surprise at the hug, but after a second, he returns it with a sad smile, releasing me after a moment and closing his eyes.

I exit the tent in silence.


	4. Fortune

It does not take long for Axel himself to arrive with the same intention that I came with. The old, yellowing map, which I can see, in the bright daylight, is exceedingly fragile, is in his hand, folded up into a square. Toran and Zane trail behind him, as usual; the three of them are as much an inseparable trio as Pyra, Emi, Liseth and I are a quartet.

Axel comes up short when he sees my face, which I am sure must look miserable after that conversation with Saïx; he makes no comment on it, though. Instead, he just asks, "Is Sai in there?"

"Yeah," I say quietly. "He's in there."

"Zane, Toran, will you go find the girls? We need to have a meeting." Axel shoots _looks_ at both of the other young men.

"No problem," Toran says hastily, gripping Zane's wrist and dragging his protesting friend behind him as he walks away.

As soon as they are gone, Axel comes up beside me, one hand descending onto my shoulder in a comforting but firm grip.

"You okay?" he asks.

There's danger in that 'you okay;' it's a question after my wellbeing, but there's also an undercurrent of steel that seems to say 'whoever made my little sister cry is gonna get punched.'

Again, the idea of Axel as a big brother flashes through my mind, and the thought makes me sniffle and smile at the same time.

"I'm okay," I say, nodding my head slowly. "Just trying to work through some things."

"Life's tough, isn't it?" he says sympathetically. "You make the hard choices and then work with 'em when you can."

"Yeah," I sigh.

He pats my shoulder a little bit, giving me a half-smile. "Don't worry, Nax. We'll make all of this right, somehow. Life won't be like this forever."

I glance up at him and meet his eyes, but I have no response for him, because who actually knows if we'll all make it through this alive? Even the Elder Diviners have no answer for that.

At that moment, Toran and Zane return with my sister, Pyra, and Emi in tow, all three of whom look perplexed and curious.

"What's going on?" Pyra asks, with a glance at Axel.

Axel returns his cousin's look. "Roxas and Ward sneaked into the city without permission."

Pyra's eyes go wide. "They _what_?!"

"They're alive, thank Kingdom Hearts, although that's an achievement even having made it back out," Axel says grimly. "But that's not what I called you guys here for. They found this inside one of the city libraries." He holds up the small piece of paper for them to see.

Emi squints at it, puzzled. "What's that?"

"It's a map," Axel says. "A map of the city."

"A map?" Liseth sounds puzzled. "I mean, that's great, but why did we need a meeting for that? Everyone already knows where things are in the city; it's not like a map is going to make getting back inside any easier."

"Well, maybe a normal map," Axel says. "This map is weird, though."

"Weird how?" Liseth asks.

In answer, Axel unfolds the small piece of paper out to its full size, turning it around so that the illustrated side faces toward them.

Liseth squints at the diagrams, her cobalt eyes intent and pensive. "What are all the little boxes for?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Axel says. "I feel like they're important somehow, but I just don't know what they're supposed to be. And I feel like if we could figure that out, then we might have some kind of information that maybe the Assassins don't."

"And you want to ask Saïx because…?" Liseth tilts her head.

This time, I reply before Axel can do so. "Diviners can use their Sight to look at the future, but also at objects. Sight allows us to see what's underneath the surface of things; intention, true meaning, and things like that. So if Saïx uses his Sight to look at it, then he might be able to figure out why the original mapmaker put the boxes there."

Liseth glances around at Pyra, Emi and me. "Why can't one of you three do it?"

Pyra snorts. "Nax and I are initiates. Our Sight only actually _works_ when it wants to. We still haven't mastered total control of it yet."

"I'm only second year," Emi says, raising her hands. "That stuff's still too advanced for me."

"Will Sai still be able to tell what's on the map even though he can't… you know…" Liseth waves her hands vaguely around her face, and I can tell what she's asking, even though she's too decent a person to actually say it. Her uncomfortable expression is a good enough indicator by itself.

"I will still be able to tell." Saïx's voice answers her question from within his tent, breaking into the conversation without warning.

Liseth shrieks and covers her mouth, her face reddening all the way out into her ears. "Holy Kingdom Hearts! I didn't know you could hear me, Sai! I'm sorry!"

Saïx pushes aside the tent flap with a faintly amused expression. He is still sitting on his pallet, but apparently, the canvas tents are thinner than they would seem.

"I took no offense, Thexsil," he says calmly. "It was a perfectly honest, innocent question. As to the answer, Diviner Sight operates on a plane apart from the human sense of sight. I may not be able to see with my eyes, but my Sight operates at full capacity. If there is intention behind the marks on that map, then I will be able to detect it."

"Good," Axel says. "Will you?"

In response, Saïx reaches his hand out to Axel, palm upturned. Axel places the folded paper into his hand, and the seven of us outside all crowd into the tent, sitting in a semi-huddle on the floor.

Saïx puts the paper onto the floor in front of him, unfolding it and smoothing it out so that the map is revealed in all its detail. He lays one hand against the paper's yellowed surface, fingers just barely brushing the page, and closes his eyes, sitting so still that anyone watching for that moment would think him a statue rather than a man.

We all look at him intensely as he sits in silence, as if our aggressive staring will somehow speed up the process. It doesn't, however, and we sit for minutes that stretch out like pulled candy, quickly wearing thin. Emi and Pyra both look curious, Zane looks bored, and Toran, Axel, and Liseth wear serious, grave expressions which reflect the level at which their minds are furiously churning with thoughts.

Finally, Saïx's pale eyes open, blink once, and then open again, his hand rising slowly off of the map.

"Well?" Axel asks. "Did you find anything?"

Saïx looks vaguely disoriented for a moment, but then he seems to snap back to reality all at once, nodding his head quickly and turning in the direction of the sound of Axel's voice.

"I did," he says. "It took some searching, but I was able to uncover the true meaning behind your strange markings."

"And?" Zane prompts him.

"They are tunnels," Saïx says simply. "Tunnels beneath and through the city, which lead up to entrances within it."

All seven of us are immediately somewhere close to shell-shocked; I see six other mouths open into the same surprised 'O' that I know my own is forming.

What are the odds of finding the _perfect_ strategic tool at just the time when we need it the most? With a map like this, we could infiltrate the city within days, and the Assassins would be none the wiser. We could veritably orchestrate a victory for ourselves, and greatly diminish the risk of losing lives.

In other words, it's _far_ too perfect an opportunity to be true. Which means that it must be a trap of some sort.

I can see that at least some of the others are following my exact train of thought; Axel, Toran, and Liseth are all shaking their heads.

"I don't like it," Axel says. "This piece of paper just turned up randomly in the exact place where we needed it? It's too suspicious. I say it's a trap."

"I second that," Toran says. "I think we should burn it and keep thinking."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on," Pyra says, raising her hands. "Saïx just proved that this map is a real map. Which means there are _real tunnels_. Even if it is a trick, how can we not take this opportunity? There's way more than one of these passageways, which means we can turn this to our advantage and surprise them anyway!"

"Unless they're all guarded," Axel points out to his cousin.

"Well…" Pyra folds her arms, crossing her eyes as she struggles to come up with a suitable retort.

"There's no way that this wasn't a set-up," Toran says. "We need to get rid of this paper in case it's carrying a plague or a curse or some other kind of nasty little gift."

"It's a piece of paper, Toran," Liseth says, rolling her eyes. "I doubt that someone would go to the trouble of cursing an old piece of paper, even if the directions are a trap."

"You know," Emi cuts in, "there's a perfectly easy way to find out whether or not it's actually a trap."

Immediately, everyone's attention is fixed on Emi, their eyes drawn to her like an animal's to a bright torchlight.

She seems completely unfazed by the sudden attention, continuing on with her train of thought. "We just need to get all the Elder and high-ranked Diviners to scry on this particular piece of paper and on the future concerning it if we follow this map. If they say that there's danger coming, we know it's a trap and we burn the paper. If they say there's not, then we lucked out by some _really_ choice coincidences, and we now have a secret weapon that the Assassins will never anticipate."

Glances and whispers are exchanged, and after some low muttering and unintelligible grunts, Axel says, "All right, Emi; that seems like a good plan. How likely are the Elders to be able to predict accurately?"

Emi's expression is completely neutral and serious when she says, "They never miss."

Axel's eyebrows rise, and he whistles slightly. "That's quite the recommendation. What say everyone else?" He glances around the circle.

I can't really argue with Emi's plan; it's a sound strategy, and the Elder Diviners are more than capable of scrying the details on such a small object. Besides, despite my reservations and suspicions, there still remains the underlying hope, however faint, that this map might be the real thing, and that we might have just gained a huge and unexpected advantage over the Assassins' Guild.

Beside me, the others are nodding and voicing their assents, so I follow their lead and cast my own vote in favor of the new strategy.

"We're decided, then," Axel says, nodding. "When should we take this to the Elders?"

"Is there a better time than now?" Pyra asks frankly. "It's not like we're really busy."

Axel gives a faint smirk at his cousin's remark, but his expression soon fades, replaced by a calm seriousness unusual in someone of his particular disposition. "Okay; let's go."

One by one, we stand and exit, until only Saïx and I remain.

Being alone with him makes me feel a little bit sad and a little bit guilty and a little bit awkward, so I just shuffle my feet and ask him, "Are you coming?"

He nods, but he doesn't move, so I turn and exit back into the chilly air outside. He'll follow if he intends to come; if not, then he'll know what happens sooner or later.

We find the Elders in the exact position that they have taken to occupying as the weather grows warmer: seated in a ring around the fire pit that heats the congregated Diviner tents. Elder Itachi looks up as we approach, and his mouth twists into an amused smile.

"They have arrived at last," he says mildly.

"Goodness gracious, dears; we thought you might never show up," Elder Michiko remarks. "How embarrassing _that_ would have been!"

Axel, Zane, and Toran immediately look a little unsettled by the remarks; they aren't really used to the Elders' finely developed use of their Sight. Even Liseth, who has spoken to them before, looks slightly cowed and off-balance.

"Where's the Master?" Elder Itachi asks curiously. "There were eight in the party we saw, weren't there, Michiko?"

"Oh, he'll be along," the older woman says dreamily. "That young man has a lot on his shoulders right now."

Elder Itachi gives a shrug; neither of them seem really concerned about Saïx's absence.

"You've come with something for us, haven't you?" Elder Michiko says.

Axel nods. "We have, actually." He holds up the small map, folded neatly back into its square conformation.

"May I see it?" she asks.

"Oh, here he comes," Elder Itachi cuts in.

Sure enough, Saïx walks up slowly from the direction of his tent, coming to stand beside Axel. He greets the Elders with a nod and a small smile.

"Good morning, Master," says Elder Itachi, with a smile of his own.

"Good morning to you all," Saïx says quietly. "I trust that you find yourselves well."

"Well enough," the older man replies. "Well enough, indeed."

"Hush, now, Itachi," says Elder Michiko. "These children need us to do something, and I am certain now that it is important."

"Yes, of course," Elder Itachi says, nodding and turning to Axel.

Axel holds the map out to Elder Michiko, who takes it and unfolds it slowly, wrinkled fingers gently smoothing out the creases in the paper. Her green eyes study it keenly, slightly narrowed in concentration. All of the other Elders crowd around her in order to see it for themselves, leaning in from both sides.

"It's a map," Axel says, as if they can't see that for themselves. I roll my eyes a little, but keep silent.

"A map it is," one of the male Elders says. "A map of the city. And look here; these are tunnels, aren't they?"

Another Elder, a woman, nods in assent. "That they are."

"How in the name of Kingdom Hearts are they doing all of that so fast?!" Toran hisses, shooting a _look_ around at Pyra, Emi, and me. "It's freaking me out!"

"Don't be a baby," Pyra whispers back to him, sticking her tongue out. "They've been doing this longer than you've been alive."

Toran makes a face at her, but he quickly turns around as the Elders begin to speak again.

"I am assuming that there are details surrounding this map that you would like us to clarify for you," Elder Itachi says, looking at Axel.

Axel nods. "The circumstances are too perfect. How did we manage to just find this laying around in a library, right when we need a secret entrance the most? I don't believe it can be a coincidence, but we just want to make sure before we take any definite action."

"We need you to perform a scrying," Emi speaks up.

Elder Itachi holds up one hand, turning around and facing the rest of the Elders. They all lean in and begin speaking in whispers, their hushed voices overlapping one another in a confusing, slightly unsettling babble.

Axel turns around as well, casually raising one hand and delivering a glancing punch to Toran's shoulder.

"_Ow! _Hey, what in the worlds was that for?!" Toran complains.

"Next time we need to ask someone for a favor, don't loudly whisper that their abilities freak you out when you're _standing right in front of them_," Axel admonishes him. "The Diviners got enough of that stupidity back when things were normal; they don't need it from their allies."

I see Saïx giving a quiet, approving nod that neither Toran nor Axel notice. I myself feel even warmer toward Axel than usual; no one else in the history of my life has ever stood up for the Diviners' Guild like that.

"Sorry," Toran mumbles, looking abashed. "I didn't mean to offend anyone."

"From now on, either think before you talk, or keep your mouth shut," Axel says, his breath huffing out in an exasperated sigh.

Toran falls into sheepish silence just as the Elders turn back to face us, all of them looking grave and serious.

"We will help you," Elder Itachi announces.

"Thank you," Axel says, sounding greatly relieved. "We appreciate all that you're doing, and all you've already done."

"Does anyone have a bowl?" Elder Michiko asks.

"I believe there is one on the other side of the fire pit," one of the male Elders replies.

"I'll get it," Liseth says, immediately jogging to the other side of the round pit. For a moment, the banked sticks and logs obscure her from view, but then she comes back around the ashen mound with a small bowl in her hand. She holds the bowl out to Elder Michiko, who takes it with a kind smile.

"Thank you, dear," the older woman says.

"Now, does anyone have water?" another one of the Elders speaks up.

"There is a flask of it in my tent," Saïx says. "I will return in a moment." He turns and walks back the way he came, returning within minutes with a small flask in his hands, which he offers to Elder Itachi. The other man takes it, voicing a gracious thanks as he does so.

As we watch all of the Elders stand in a circle surrounding the small bowl, almost shoulder to shoulder. One of them unties the mouth of the flask, pulling out the stop and upending it over the small bowl. The clear water flows out in a smooth stream, filling the bowl nearly to the top before the stream slowly diminishes to a trickle, and then to nothing.

The Elder sets the flask aside and shuffles away slightly, allowing Elder Michiko to approach the bowl with the map held delicately in both hands. With the caution of a weaving spider, she lowers the map carefully over the bowl, stretching it out so that it covers the water completely, the paper hanging off of the edges like a tablecloth over a round table.

With that done, she steps back into the circle, which spreads out slowly, all the Elders joining hands until they have formed a tightly bound ring. They begin to circle around the bowl, chanting quietly in an unfamiliar language that leaves a faint ache growing behind my eyes. I can tell that it's bothering my friends, too; the Assassins especially put hands to their temples, their eyes squinted closed against the gentle throbbing in their heads. Only Saïx seems completely undisturbed by the ritual, which doesn't surprise me in the slightest.

A faint shimmer begins to surround the bowl; as I watch, the map rises up into the air, as if borne by an unseen breeze. It hovers about two feet off of the ground, its corners flapping serenely. Just after it reaches a stable stillness, the water in the bowl follows it into the air; first in a slight trickle, and then in a rush that sends the map spinning again as the liquid blasts by. The water bubbles for just a moment before coalescing into a round, globular orb which totally encompasses the paper, its surface gleaming in the bright sunlight. My friends and I all voice murmurs of wonder, despite our growing headaches.

The Elders continue to circle and chant, and the globe of water begins to glow; not just with reflected sunlight, but with its own light, first dimly, and then brighter and brighter as the chanting grows in volume and intensity. Soon, it becomes blinding, as if a miniature sun has descended to the earth; I am forced to look away, shielding my eyes with one hand.

Suddenly, there is an earsplitting _crack_, followed by the sound of splashing. Then the light fades away, and everything is silent; even the chanting has stopped.

Slowly, I raise my hand, peering back at the circle of Elders. To my utter awe, all the water has splashed back _into_ the bowl, without even a drop hitting the ground around it. The paper now rests on the ground, fluttering gently in the _real_ breeze.

The Elders all let go of one another's hands, stepping backward with heavy sighs and taking their seats beside the fire pit. Axel kneels down and picks up the map, and we are all silent for a long moment, allowing the older Diviners to reclaim their breath.

Finally, Elder Itachi looks up at Axel. He looks tired, but beneath the weariness, there is a smile on his face.

"Fortune appears to have smiled on your endeavors," he says with a chuckle. "You need not fear the map; it truly was a gift from the heavens."

"You mean… it was actually a _coincidence_?" Axel sounds thunderstruck, his mouth hanging open in shock. "It's _not_ a trap?"

"Not as far as our Sight can tell us, boy," the Elder responds, "and that hasn't failed us yet, has it?" He glances around at the other Elders, all of whom indicate their agreement.

"Kingdom Hearts," Axel breathes, staring down at the map like it's a rare and priceless gem. "_Kingdom Hearts."_

Elder Itachi chuckles at him. "Use your advantage well. It may not last you long."

Axel glances up immediately. "Why not? Did you see something else?"

At that, Elder Itachi gives a long, resounding laugh, his hands resting on his knees as his chest shakes with it. When he has finished laughing, he shakes his head at Axel, merriment glimmering in his eyes. "No, boy, we didn't see anything else."

"Then what did you say that for?" Axel asks warily.

"That, my son, was just good advice," Elder Itachi says, wiping away the remaining tears of mirth.

"Oh." Axel lets out a breath. "Well, thank you, then. We'll be sure to use caution and discretion. And thank you for your help."

"Anytime," Elder Michiko says, smiling.

"Come on, you all," Axel says, turning back to us with a grin big enough to split his entire face. "We've got plans to make."


	5. Shock

It doesn't take very long to come up with a strategy once we've been assured of the truth, somehow, of our extraordinary coincidence. The eight of us take our usual places on the floor inside our Council tent, with the map in the middle of our circle like an ancient, precious relic in a place of honor. I'm still flabbergasted that we managed to acquire such an item purely by chance, but as a Diviner, I've learned never to underestimate fate. Sometimes, things are simply meant to happen; maybe this was one of them.

"We'll send a preliminary recon team through one of these tunnels to see where it puts us in the city," Axel says, gesturing at the map. "After we've established an initial base of operations inside the walls, we'll have other teams explore the surrounding passageways. In time, we might even establish an entire network of subterfuge operations beneath the city; we can harass them and do damage until they can't take it anymore."

"Do remember that the ultimate goal in all of this is to make sure that Iris loses her life," Saïx says calmly. "How do you suggest that we use this advantage to accomplish that goal?"

"One of these tunnels has got to come out somewhere near the Castle," Axel says. "We'll use that one to get close to her; kill the guards at night, in secret, and then sneak in and—"

"If you think my sister will allow that to happen, then you make a foolish assumption," Saïx says. "Iris is cunning and unusually perceptive. She will stop at nothing to protect her own life, even at the cost of other lives, on our side _or_ her own." His voice is absolutely cold, shockingly so in the energetic warmth of our amazing revelation.

"Well…" Axel seems at a loss for words; finally, he just shrugs. "We'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, we need to assemble and dispatch a recon team into the tunnels."

"Which tunnel?" Liseth asks.

"We're up here, near the North River," Axel says, sliding closer to the map and indicating a spot above the city's northern wall. "So the easiest tunnels to access would be the ones on the north side of the city."

"We'd need to find ones whose entrances are actually outside the walls," I put in. "Some of those tunnels are _just_ underneath the city, and they don't come outside the walls at all."

"Right," Axel says, nodding. "So, considering both of those things, I'd say our best choice would be… here." He puts his finger on one of the rectangular shapes, which extends outside the city's wall for a fair distance. "We can enter from outside the city, and according to the map, we should come up…" He traces the rectangular shape past the city's wall and all the way to its terminal edge. "We should come up right in the middle of Market Square."

"So who are we sending in?" Emi asks.

"Assassins," Axel replies frankly. "And Knights. Normally, I'd say send some magicians just for an even mix, but all of our magicians are too scarce and too valuable to waste on recon."

"A Diviner might be able to provide some assistance with Sight," Pyra says, but Axel is already shaking his head.

"The only Diviners I'd be willing to rely on for ultra-keen predictions are Sai or the Elders; we can't send either of those parties, and I'm not willing to risk any Diviner blood on a reconnaissance foray." He puts a fist down firmly, closing the issue. "We'll send a militant team; Assassins, Knights, and a couple of Freeshooters."

Pyra grumbles a little, but bows to her cousin's logic with a sigh and a nod.

"I'd be willing to lead this little team, if you'll allow me," Zane says, looking at Axel.

Axel nods. "We need an elder Assassin anyway, and you're well-respected around here. You'll have a team of ten; that mischievous little brother of yours can accompany you, as well as his friend."

Zane nods. "When are we to leave?"

"Tomorrow morning, at first light," Axel says, without hesitation. "We need to establish as much of an advantage as possible, as soon as possible."

"Aye," Zane agrees. "Tomorrow, then. I'll make ready." He stands up, brushing off the legs of his breeches and exiting the tent with a determined expression.

"Toran, Liseth, I need you both to help me choose the recon team," Axel says.

"Hey, what about us?" I ask, startled. "Don't we get to help?"

"The recon team are all militant," Axel reminds me.

"We can see the future," I shoot back, folding my arms.

He grins. "You also said that your powers were a little temperamental, if I remember correctly."

I make a face at him. "Okay, yes, _mine_ are, and Pyra's, but Emi might be able to help, and Saïx definitely could!"

"Don't call me out on powers, Nax," Emi says, hastily shaking her head. "I'm still only second year; I'm not _that_ much better than an initiate."

"I believe that fortune has cast the dice in our favor," Saïx says to me. "If Axel requires my assistance or my participation in the selection of members of this team, I will gladly give it, but I do not believe that it is vital for this particular step of the process."

"We can manage this bit, Nax," Axel says, ruffling my hair. With one hand, he motions for Toran and Liseth to stand and follow him, which they do, the three of them exiting the tent together.

"Well, I guess we've been dismissed," I say sarcastically, rising to my feet and brushing off the hems of my pants.

"I'm guessing you're feeling a little left out, too?" Pyra says to me, rolling her eyes. "Trust my cousin to take charge of something like that. He's too much of a strategist; it's wired into his brain or something."

"Which is why he makes an excellent Assassin," Saïx reminds us. "And an equally excellent organizer of missions. I would not fret about leaving these sorts of details to him. We Diviners have an equally integral task in the overall result of this war."

"Which is what, exactly?" I ask. "We're only just now learning how to fight, and if someone cuts us open, they could potentially gain our powers. Not to mention what could happen if _you_ get captured." I fight back a slight shudder at the thought.

"We provide an insurance for our side," Saïx says. "We provide the confirmation that each maneuver is not threatened by a trap, or the warning if it is."

"That's boring," Pyra remarks. "Can't we hack and slash, too? Or at least set some fires?"

Emi snorts a little. "You know, your pyromania is becoming painfully obvious after that first raid."

"Well, I can't help it," Pyra says, sticking out her tongue. "Fire is nice. And you have to admit that it's an effective method of destruction. I'm just sick of being stuck here all winter with absolutely nothing to do that's useful."

"We will have something to do soon, Pyra," Saïx reassures her. "And I can promise that you will not be stuck here much longer. For us to attain victory, we must all participate in chasing it."

"You sound like a fortune cookie," Pyra gripes, but she appears satisfied by that for now, and falls silent, chewing on her thumbnail.

Saïx merely smiles at the retort, standing and peering outside the big tent. "If everyone is finished complaining, I suggest that we move on and find something to eat."

Emi is instantly nodding. "I'm definitely okay with that. I'm starving."

"Everyone is starving, Emi," I say sarcastically, but when they walk out of the tent, I follow along behind them.

Everyone in the camp is up early the next morning to see off Zane and his team of ten, which does, as Axel promised, include the cheeky Roxas and the nervous-looking Ward. They are the youngest members of the squad, most of whom are militants well into their twenties or even thirties, in some cases. In every eye, there glints a sparkle of both determination and excitement, the kinds of feelings that I haven't seen since the first raid on the city, back before the snows set in.

"Do you know where you're headed?" Axel asks Zane, as the entire congregation of refugees crowds around the southernmost tip of the camp area. The team stands right at the edge of the clearing, ready to strike off into the woods; the rest of us form a sort of massive half-moon behind them, a human wall of support and enthusiasm.

"Aye," Zane replies, nodding. "Southward to the entrance of the tunnel, and then straight through and into Market Square, to set up a forward post for later entries."

Axel gives a nod in return. "Send a few back to us so we know when you've made it."

"Moon's peace over you all," Saïx says seriously. "Travel swiftly and safely."

Zane looks slightly awed by Saïx's blessing, but he nods in return, offering a salute. "Aye, Master Saïx, and thank you."

As we all watch them, the team of ten salute us one by one, their eyes traveling around the half-circle of the crowd before they turn and quietly move off into the forest. We all remain there, watching them, until their dark silhouettes have disappeared into the trees and are lost from view.

Axel turns to face the crowd now, his arms crossed. "All we can do now is wish them safety and speed. Everyone should go back to their daily routine; there's no point in just standing here all day. We'll alert everyone when the team's runners arrive."

There is a mass grumbling and moaning from the majority of the crowd, but they do eventually disperse, until only Axel, Saïx, Toran, Liseth, Emi, Pyra, and I are left standing by the southernmost fringe of trees that overhang the edge of the camp. Heavy, wet snow drips from the branches with intermittent, moist _plopping_ sounds, and the icicles have all but melted away, leaving bare, brown limbs which hang expectant for the greenery of spring.

"Do you think they'll actually manage to do it?" Liseth asks.

"The Elders gave us a good report on the validity of the map," Toran says. "There's no reason to think that this mission won't go exactly as planned."

"I know," Liseth sighs. "And yet… I'm worried. What if someone finds them?"

Axel shakes his head. "They're too smart for that, Thex. The only ones I'd be worried about are Roxas and Ward, but I know that Zane can keep his little brother in check."

"Yeah… I guess so," Liseth says, crossing her arms. She still looks unconvinced, but I know my sister. Liseth is a worrier, despite the tough Assassin nerves that have been grilled into her by her time in the Guild.

"They'll be fine, Thex," I say, just to reassure her once more. "Come on, I'm sure we've got other, more boring things to do besides just wait around here."

"Like what?" she asks frankly.

"Like daring each other to jump in the river," I say, adding in an evil grin for effect.

Her eyebrow shoots up almost to her hairline. "Nax, it is _March_."

"Exactly," I reply. "Are you coming or not?"

"Oh, this should be good," Emi snickers.

"I dare Emi to go first," I say, without even missing a beat.

"…I hate you," Emi grumbles. "Come on, then."

"I know you're going to dare me, but this is too good to miss," Pyra snorts. "Let's go."

With that, we all sprint off toward the northern side of the camp and the river beyond, leaving the bewildered boys standing behind us by the trees.

The river is absolutely as cold as I expected, icy and shocking under the first blue sky that we have seen all winter. It's as if even the atmosphere is smiling down on us, as if the world approves of our first attempt at making a stand since the November raid.

_And why shouldn't it? We're fighting on the side of goodness and peace and light_.

Emi screams as soon as she takes the plunge, the sound cut off when her head promptly descends below the surface of the water. She comes up blue and shivering so hard that I can actually hear her teeth rattling.

"I hate you, Nax," she moans again as she climbs back onto the riverbank and sits shaking in the frigid March breeze. "I hate you so much. What in the world made you think that was a good idea?"

"Are you thinking about the mission anymore?" I ask, grinning.

"If you mean _my_ mission to get revenge as soon as possible, then yes, I sure am," she huffs between clicks of her teeth.

I just laugh in response and cheerfully throw myself into the river, inhaling a gasp of shock as the freezing liquid eagerly welcomes my body. The cold is deep and cutting enough to knock the breath from my lungs and send shivers racing all up and down my spine; even so, there's something invigorating about it, a _zing_ of pleasure that makes me feel alive for the first time in months. I climb out of the river with a huge grin, sticking my tongue out at Emi even as I proceed to shake and tremble with cold.

Pyra and Liseth quickly follow after us, and then the four of us sit in a shivering circle on the cold pebbles of the riverbank, watching the freezing water as it meanders slowly by us, not yet flushed with the spring snowmelts.

"We're all idiots," Pyra remarks to no one in particular.

"This is Nax's fault," Emi says, shooting me another doleful glare.

"No one said you _had_ to jump in the river, Em," I say, refusing to let her remarks rob me of my first truly cheerful mood in ages. "That part was all on you."

"Shut up," she mumbles in retort, which lets me know that I've won this round. I give her a conciliatory grin, and she sticks her tongue out.

"You know, it's weird," Liseth says, rubbing her shoulders energetically. "I'm really cold, but somehow I feel…" She searches for a word, her lips moving without producing any sound as her mind whirs.

"Alive?" I ask, looking at her.

"Yeah… alive," she agrees, nodding slowly. "Renewed, almost. Like I haven't been myself in a long time, and I'm just now finally regaining all of that stuff I lost."

"You know… that's how I feel, too," Emi admits, if somewhat grudgingly.

"Yeah, me too," Pyra says. "Like I've been reenergized."

"Maybe it's a sign," Emi says. "Maybe the mission is going really well, after all."

"Yeah, maybe," I say, letting my words trail off into the frigid, invigorating air.

We all sit there in silence for a long moment, thinking on that, until Pyra remarks, "You know, despite the melt, I think my clothes might be freezing to my skin."

"Agreed," Emi says.

"Let's head back," I say, standing up and wincing slightly as cold fabric rubs against wet skin, making the shocking cold even worse. "We can start a fire, just for Pyra."

Pyra's huge grin doesn't fade all the way back to the camp.

The fire eventually warms us and dries our clothes, and we sit by it for a long time, watching the movements of the camp around us as morning slides smoothly into afternoon, which fades to the dusky embers of evening just as our fire begins to sputter and die.

Emi yawns and stretches, raising her arms high above her head. "I wonder how the recon team is doing," she says absently.

"How long has it been?" Pyra asks.

"About eleven hours," Liseth replies, beginning to look anxious again. "That should be more than enough time…"

"Relax," I say, putting a hand on her shoulder. "It's enough time for them to make it _into_ the tunnel, but we don't realistically know how long the tunnel actually is or how long it will take them to set up an effective forward post. I'm sure they're fine. They're just being thorough."

"We'll probably wake up tomorrow morning to the cheerful sound of the runners' message," Emi says, nodding in agreement.

It is just at that moment that the relatively peaceful silence of the woods around us is broken by the sound of loud, panicked screaming, accompanied by the _snaps_ and _crashes_ of breaking twigs and branches.

"What in the worlds is that?!" Pyra exclaims, sitting bolt upright, her eyes riveted on the woods.

My gaze, too, is fixated on the forest; at almost the exact moment that I heard the scream, it was like a sonic shock radiated through my Sight, a ripple of panic, pain, and fear that jangled the ends of my nerves and set my teeth on edge within my mouth.

"Did you feel that?" Emi asks, her voice a hushed, solemn whisper.

"It felt like someone just stabbed me in the Sight with dull scissors," Pyra croaks in reply, massaging her temples.

"What _happened_?" I murmur. "I've never felt anything like that before."

Liseth is glancing from one of us to another in alarm and concern, her fingers twitching reflexively toward her belt, where her knives are usually sheathed.

We don't have to wonder for very long what the cause of the screams is; the trees at the edge of the clearing burst apart, and a lanky human figure, spattered in red and sporting torn clothing, blunders into the camp and almost immediately falls facedown on the ground, chest heaving in shuddering gasps and sighs interspersed with loud sobs.

The four of us jump up immediately, sprinting over to the figure as people begin to emerge from their tents, faces twisted in fear and worry. Emi kneels down beside the person and gently grasps the shoulders, turning the bloody figure over onto its back.

I know I am not the only one to stifle a gasp.

Roxas's face is _covered_ in blood and dirt; the red liquid mats his blond hair to his forehead, burbling sluggishly from a nasty gash right beside his left temple and streaming steadily from an obviously broken nose. Bruises mar his whole body with purplish splotches, and his clothes are sliced and torn to shreds, the ragged fabric just barely managing to hang in some fashion from his body. Tear tracks slice glittering paths through the blood on his face, and as we watch, the clear droplets squeeze themselves out from his eyes, which are tightly closed. He is shaking all over, but whether from cold or from fear is both indeterminable and irrelevant. Obviously, something or some_one_ has hurt him badly.

"Roxas!" Emi gasps. "Oh my gods, Roxas! Are you all right? What happened to you?!"

"Where's the rest of the team?" Pyra asks anxiously. "Did they follow you? Are they all right?"

"D…dead!" he screams, the word tearing itself from his mouth in a ragged explosion that is followed only by silence.

_Dead_.

Nine people are dead.

A cold feeling sinks into my stomach like leaden bricks, hard and unforgiving.

_Zane_ is dead.


	6. What Happened There

It does not take Axel, Saïx, and Toran very long after that to show up. Roxas has not spoken another word; the only sounds he makes are long, choking sobs that cut off every now and again as he spits out a mouthful of blood. It is a devastating and terrifying sight, and by the time the others arrive, my nerves are frayed thread-thin.

"What happened?!" Axel demands immediately, kneeling beside Roxas. Toran and Saïx stand back and watch; Toran looks confused and anxious, but Saïx's expression is what scares me the most: grim and resigned pain and sadness. The lines of heaviness are tight at the corners of his blind eyes.

"It was h-horrible," Roxas manages, a shiver wrenching his entire body to one side before he regains some semblance of control. "It was so horrible, Axel. They were all dead within five minutes…"

"How did they die, Roxas?" Axel's voice is not sharp, but it is firm and urgent; we _need_ this information, despite the fact that the young man is badly hurt.

"They killed each other," Roxas whispers. "It was Ward first; he turned around with this crazy look in his eyes, and before we knew it, he'd stabbed the guy behind him right in the heart. Then they all started going crazy, except for me. I tried to get them to stop, but my brother… my brother…" He starts sobbing again, choking off the words as they try to exit his mouth.

I feel sick and hollow, my entire middle now suddenly an empty cavity, filled with nothingness. All I can think about is Zane's joking, his cheerful smile, his serious grey eyes, his sometimes-big mouth. All of that was what made Zane the person that he was; a person who was easy to like and easy to please.

And now, Zane is gone. Just like that, without any farewell or any further ado, he is completely and utterly wiped out of our lives.

I can't stand it anymore; the tears start to flow from my eyes, too, though I quickly raise my hands to wipe them away. One look around the group, though, and I can see that I'm not alone. Emi and Pyra are both crying, as well, and Liseth's face bears a terrible, tragic hardness, every line in her features standing out in sharp relief, her prominent bones casting deep shadows over her skin in the fading light.

"All right, easy," Axel says gently, shaking his head. "We'll find out the rest later. I can't believe you managed to make it back on your own." He turns his head toward the crowd that has gathered without anyone's notice. "Someone go and get some water to heat up! And somebody else find some bandages! Hurry up!"

Instantly, people scramble to do as he says. Axel, Toran, Saïx, and a few of the other Assassins lift Roxas up and carry him away to be looked after, but I can't wash the memory of the horrible bloodstains from my mind.

"So… that's it, then," Emi whispers hoarsely. "Zane is gone forever."

"We didn't even get to say goodbye," Pyra moans.

Their words are somehow lost in the swirl of dazed confusion making its way slowly across my mind, clouding out all room for other rational thought. Without really considering what I am saying, I murmur, "What went wrong?"

They all look at me immediately, shock imprinted on their features.

"What?" Liseth says blankly.

"With the scrying," I say, shaking my head. "The Elders told us that the map wasn't a trick. They said everything would be fine, and they _never_ make mistakes like that. So… what went wrong? What _happened_?"

_That_ sends them into silence; the four of us kneel there and wonder for a very long time, until Saïx comes back with that heavy, grief-stricken expression still on his face. He lays one hand on my shoulder and the other on Liseth's, bowing his head.

"You all should come inside." His voice is quiet, without any of its usual power or command. It's as if he's been completely drained.

We rise in silence, the four of us huddling around him in a small, closed mass. We hang on his arms as if we are small children, and he lets us, leading us in a group back to the huge tent that belongs to the Resistance Council. Axel and Toran are already waiting there, and this time, their faces share in the terrible pain and suffering. This time, they aren't the questioning resistance leaders. This time, they are young men who have just lost a friend.

None of us says anything; instead, we all just curl up into a huddled, tangled mess, each of us using the others for whatever warmth and comfort that we can find. We don't feel like victorious warriors anymore; we feel like sad, frightened children.

Despite the warmth of the pile, I fall asleep cold and empty.

No one wants to question Roxas in the morning.

Despite that undeniable fact, the prevailing thought between us as we rise and stretch the chill and stiffness from our muscles is that we _must_ question him. He was incapacitated last night, but this morning, he might be able to give us some clarity and some answers about what exactly happened to the recon team, and what went so shockingly wrong with the Elders' prediction.

My mind is still in a pale haze as I rise and pull on my boots without really noticing what I am doing. Around me, my friends do the same, moving like mechanical toys or mindless creatures incapable of focus or reason. We have, at present, lost the will to do anything remotely similar to focusing.

"Who wants to come with me?" Axel asks at last, breaking the heavy silence. His voice lacks any of its customary swagger, seeming faint and exhausted of all emotion.

None of us need to ask him where he is going; instead, all of our hands rise in unison, an unspoken agreement to pay tribute to Zane in any way that we can.

The walk from the big tent to the smaller one where they have put Roxas is not a long one at all. Inside, the young man is laid out atop a pallet, one arm tightly bandaged, the other in a sling across his chest. The blood and dirt have been washed from his face and body, and his cuts are stitched and bandaged; in the weak light of early morning, his skin looks washed-out and lifeless, as if he himself is a corpse like his brother and friends.

He appears to be asleep, but his eyes blink open as soon as we enter the tent, blue irises bloodshot and red-rimmed from exhaustion and sorrow. He turns his head to look at us, and the look is so filled with pleading and pain that it sends a fresh shock of grief through my heart, stinging the corners of my eyes with wetness.

"I'm sorry," Axel says quietly. "Your brother was a good man and a good soldier. He'll be sorely missed."

Roxas swallows and nods without saying a word in reply; a silent tear leaks from his eye and slides down his cheek, hanging for a moment before dripping onto the ground below.

"We know you are sad," Saïx puts in gently. "We are, as well. None of us truly want to dig up the shallow grave of grief before it has even had time to settle; however, this is war, and sometimes, we must do that which brings us pain."

Axel nods in agreement. "He's right, Roxas. I know it hurts. It's painful for all of us, but this is important."

"You want me to tell you about how they died." The boy's voice is weak and raspy; the voice of a dead man walking.

Axel nods again, a silent affirmation.

"You won't believe me," Roxas says simply.

"Try us," I say, the first words I have spoken all morning.

"She speaks the truth," Saïx says. "Whatever you tell us, only speak true and we will believe you."

There is a long silence; the boy closes his eyes, and the morbid part of me wonders if those were his last words, that exhale his last breath.

Finally, though, he opens them, shaking his head slowly. "I'll tell you as much as I can understand," he whispers. "You'll have to make sense of it without me."

"That is all we ask," Saïx replies kindly.

Roxas inhales shakily, and then begins. "We were walking through the deepest part of the tunnel," he says slowly. "We'd arrived at the mouth a couple of hours earlier, and according to what it looked like on the map, we were about halfway through. It was really dark, and getting really cold; I was freezing and I couldn't see my hand in front of my face. It was like I was… well." He shoots an involuntary glance at Saïx, stopping himself before he can say _blind_. "Anyway," he continues, swallowing hard, "Zane… suggested that we light a candle. He said it was important to see where we were going, so we wouldn't accidentally walk off to the side and hit a wall. So Marai, one of the Knights, dug a candle out of his pack and we lit it, and then we could see, and we saw…" He shudders involuntarily, his shoulders convulsing.

"What did you see?" Axel asks, prompting him gently.

"They were sort of like huge spiderwebs," Roxas whispers, shivering again. "Giant, and white, and they looked stringy; they weren't webs, though. Spider silk is sticky, and I touched the stuff when nobody was looking. It wasn't sticky; it was wet and slimy, like ooze."

This time, it's my turn to shudder, and when I glance at Emi's and Pyra's disgusted looks, I can see I'm not the only one creeped out by the description.

"They were all over the walls and ceiling," Roxas says, "but not on the floor. Strands of the whatever-it-was were sort of dripping down from the roof, too, like stalactites. They didn't drip _off_, they just kind of… hung there."

"All right… gross," Axel concedes. "But go on; what happened after that?"

"We all started getting freaked out after we saw the stuff all over the walls," Roxas continues after another hard swallow and a cough. "Zane was the only one who stayed calm; he said we had to keep on moving for the good of the resistance, and whatever had made the marks was probably either already dead, or about to be." Tears glimmer in his eyes, and I can feel a few in mine, too. It sounds exactly like what Zane would have said.

"Good for him," Axel murmurs sadly. "Then what?"

"We kept walking for about ten more minutes, and it kept getting colder," Roxas goes on. "Everyone was getting really nervous; we were huddling tighter and tighter towards the center of the tunnel, right around Marai and his candle. No one wanted to touch the walls. It was like you could _feel_ the fear in the air, like it was a thing you could touch or hold."

"You said that Ward attacked someone in your group, didn't you?" Axel interrupts. "Last night, when you got back. You said they killed one another?"

Roxas nods, choking slightly. "Ward was the first one," he croaks. "I don't know what happened to him, I swear. One moment, we were walking down the tunnel; the next, he had his sword out, and then Marai was screaming, and everyone thought something had come out of the tunnel, but it was _Ward_. He stabbed Marai right through the stomach, and then Marai dropped the candle and it went out."

I feel a stab of fear at that, imagining being stuck in a closed tunnel when one of your companions has just been stabbed to death by someone you thought you could trust.

"It was chaos after that," Roxas says, fighting to keep the crack in his voice under control. "As soon as it went dark, it was like a feeding frenzy. They all pulled out their swords and went wild, swinging and slashing and trying to kill each other."

"Zane, too?" Pyra asks softly, her eyes wide.

Roxas wipes a hand roughly across his eyes. "No," he whispers. "Zane… my brother saved my life."

"How?" Axel asks gently. "What did Zane do?"

"Someone kicked me in the stomach and knocked me down," Roxas says softly. "I was going to die, I knew it. But then my brother had me by the wrist and he pulled me up, and then he… I didn't even know he could do it."

"What did he do?" Saïx asks.

"He called up a little… a little light," Roxas says. "A little ball of light to float at his shoulder. He had me by the wrist, and he was pulling me away from the others, even while they were still slashing and cutting. I got these on my face and arms from their swords." He gestures at a few of his cuts.

"But he didn't make it out?" Toran asks solemnly.

Roxas shakes his head. "Someone saw the light," he moans. "There were only a few of them left, and they were mostly-dead anyway, but someone saw it and came after us. Zane could have handled him alone, but with me there, it was harder for him. He was trying to keep me behind him, but I was stupid. I wanted to help. So I pulled out my sword and I jerked away from him to fight. To prove myself to him, like I'd wanted to ever since I made that stupid mistake and got people captured and maybe killed." Tears trickle down from his eyes now, and he slams the fist of his good hand down on his pallet. "I was so _stupid_. I should've just let Zane handle him, but I had to be the show-off. And I got stabbed, right in the gut." He motions down to his side, where I can now see a heavy bandage, stained rust-red with blood.

"I should've died," he murmurs. "But my brother wasn't going to allow that. So he picked me up and he ran away, and that guy chased us. I don't even know who it was; he was too ripped-up for me to recognize. But we ran all the way back down the tunnel, and I knew Zane was getting tired because he'd sprinted a distance that took us two hours to walk, and the guy was catching us, even though he was slower. I don't even know how he was still alive. He should've been dead."

"He caught you?" Axel asks.

Roxas nods, furiously squeezing his eyes shut as more tears trickle out. "At the entrance to the tunnel. We could see the sunlight; we were so _close_. We were going to live. And then the guy jumped on us, and Zane sort of threw me toward the entrance and yelled at me to run, but I didn't run. I couldn't leave him. I _couldn't_." He looks at us pleadingly, as if begging for our approval.

"What happened to him?" Toran asks.

"He was too tired," Roxas says. "Zane was too tired, and that guy somehow… _wasn't_. He got Zane on the floor, and my brother was trying to fight him off and get back on even footing, but his arms just sort of gave out, and then the other guy…" He shakes his head. "He stabbed my brother right through the throat." His voice chokes up at that, and he presses his palms to his eyes. "He killed my brother, just like that."

"How did you get away?" Axel asks.

"I knew I wasn't gonna make it, but I had to try," Roxas says. "So I turned around and I ran for the entrance, and I knew the guy was gonna catch me, but all I could think about was that my brother was dead. And then I was out in the open, and the guy was right behind me, and I was thinking '_this is the end,'_ but then he… he sort of… froze."

"Froze?" Saïx repeats.

Roxas nods. "He froze, and he stared up at the sky with this weird expression, like he was in pain, but happy at the same time. And then he screamed, really loud, and then he just sort of fell over and curled up into a ball, and I waited a couple of seconds, like an idiot, but… he was dead."

"What in the worlds?" Axel murmurs.

Roxas shrugs wearily. "I don't get it either. But after that, I ran all the way back here, and then… well, you know the rest."

Axel nods, resting one hand on the boy's shoulder, although I'm not sure whether it's supposed to be in comfort. "Thank you. I know that was hard for you, and I appreciate your willingness to share this information with us. We don't have to talk about it anymore."

Roxas raises his good hand and grips the one Axel has on his shoulder, staring straight up. "Whatever did that to them… whatever made them kill each other and made my brother die… I know it's still in the tunnels. Its marks were on the walls." His eyes harden. "And I'm going to destroy it. Whatever it takes."

Axel nods. "We'll see that promise through. We'll avenge them all." He lowers the boy's hand back to the bed. "Get some rest; you're still pretty beat up."

Roxas nods, and the pale lids slide back down over the sapphire eyes, his breathing slowly evening out as he fades back into unconsciousness.

"What do you make of it, Axel?" Saïx asks as we exit the tent into the clear morning sunshine. The rest of the camp mills about at its daily activities, though with a noticeably lesser degree of cheer than usual. Roxas's tale apparently weighs heavy on every heart.

Axel taps his chin, narrow brows lowered over squinted eyes. "I'm not sure," he admits. "On the one hand, we know there's a monster in the tunnels, and by all means, we need to kill it in order to get ourselves through to the city. On the other, though…"

"The Elders' prediction was flawed," Saïx says.

Axel nods, frustration pulling at the corners of his eyes and mouth. "What did they not see?" he huffs. "They said the mission would be a success, and yet, here we are with nine people dead and one kid severely wounded."

"Could they have been blocked?" Emi wonders.

"By _who_?" Toran asks. "Who can block scrying magic that powerful?"

"Certain varieties of monster have abilities that can block Sight and arcane spying magic," Saïx says. "But those monsters are very rare, and from Roxas's description of the tunnel walls, whatever creature lurks within is certainly not one that I can identify."

"Could it have been a Sorcerer?" I ask. "One of those still in the city? Maybe they've shifted their loyalties to avoid being tortured."

"Perhaps," Saïx says, though he looks uncertain. "Though I know of few Sorcerers able to block Sight, since they would have to use other channels to do so."

"Can other Diviners do it?" Pyra asks.

Saïx nods. "Powerful Diviners can block one another's Sight. We are the only class of magic-users with control over that energy. I do not know who here would have blocked such a scrying, however; to do so would constitute deep treason."

"Not here," Pyra says, shaking her head. "In the city."

"What?" Saïx asks, looking confused.

It hits me then, in a cold rush of clarity. "The ones we left behind," I whisper weakly. "After the escape, when they were recaptured. There were other Diviners left in the city; six of those were the other Elders."

Saïx's eyes widen, the colorless pupils dilating to almost nothing within the pale irises. "Of course," he whispers. "And my sister is very likely manipulating them into employing their abilities to her advantage."

"Which means she probably knew about the map, too, even if we found it by coincidence," Toran says, with just a hint of 'I-told-you-so.'

"And they could have blocked the scrying," Emi says. "They tricked us, and we sent nine people to their deaths."

"To think that honorable Diviners would be bent to using their Sight for evil…" Saïx's face is heavy and weary with guilt. "It is an abomination; a warping and twisting of the natural order of Divination! That they could even consider serving a force of darkness…!" He trails off, shaking his head.

"We don't know for sure yet if it was them," Axel says, to calm him. "There's still a possibility that it could have been whatever's in the tunnels. If you don't know what it is, then Kingdom Hearts only knows what it can actually do."

"How do we find out what it is if it can block us?" I ask. "Or, you know, _eat_ us? If it can make goo trails as big as Roxas described, then it's probably more than capable of killing a person."

"We go in and find it ourselves," Axel says.

Immediately, all eyes lock on him, frying him with disbelieving, skeptical stares.

"Are you freaking _nuts_?" Pyra asks him incredulously. "You wanna go _back_ in there? Did you not just hear what Roxas told us? We'll either end up getting eaten, or we'll end up slaughtering each other!"

"Why did that happen?" I wonder out loud. "It's been bothering me…"

"What has?" Axel asks.

"The fact that Roxas said his entire team killed one another, and yet he and Zane were somehow able to stay clear-headed," I say. "It doesn't make sense. Why would the two of them be the only ones with the ability to keep their heads, if the others were being controlled, like it seems?"

"Yeah…" He nods in agreement. "That's a good question, Nax."

"What if the monster was controlling them, and it can only control a set number of people at a time?" Emi suggests.

"Eight's a pretty weird number," Toran says. "Plus, why would it just _conveniently_ leave both Roxas _and_ Zane alone, when they just so happen to be brothers? There's too much of a connection there for it to be coincidental, and this time, no one is allowed to argue with me, because no one listened to me about the map." He crosses his arms, his expression daring the rest of us to make any comment in rebuttal.

"Toran, despite the fact that he's being an idiot, has a point," Axel says, shooting a _look_ at Toran. "There's a weird connection there with Roxas and Zane being brothers, and I think that might somehow be the key to what happened in the tunnels." He tugs on the ties of his wristguards absentmindedly, his face twisted in frustrated pondering. "We need more information, and I can't see any realistic way to get it without putting someone in danger."

"I guess asking the Elders again is out of the question?" I say.

Axel nods. "As reluctant as I am to admit it, if they can be blocked on this, then they can be blocked on just about anything until we figure out who's blocking them and get rid of the obstruction. For right now, we're on our own."


End file.
